poetry & things


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A wave, a black flood pooling

storm of sorrow leaving

deep wound of darkness reigning

teardrops falling to the ground

your buried silence


garden of the sun

a garden fence of wooden slats

giant poppies bloom and fill the gaps

brightest petals, orange

white birds of summer

will mend, with twine and twig

windy nests of a northern winter

today, only an indigo sea

of lavender bees, will hum

like gold, beneath the sun

no frowning clouds will come

only morning glory flowers will bloom

blue as sky, blue as heaven


In your hands

I shall place

sweetest flowers

little yellow suns

to hold you


upon your palms

I will map days

follow hidden paths

traced through trees

to reach

quiet rivers

holding your hands

at the border’s edge

free dive, trusting

letting go, to fall

our two souls

deeply connected

Chrysalis (10w)


of a lonesome heart

wrapped, spun and torn apart


Woodland child you have lost the moon

to walk a path dark with fallen trees

sorrow of your sacred homeland camps besieged

the old ways buried deep, the red earth swallowed

all the precious souls, have flown far into the endless night of eagle

feathers swirl, scattered at this ancient altar.

In the ashen air

always your heart remains, your wisdom blood breathes

like the sun of fire, your dance of vivid painted colors

surreal dream of Tishomingo, trading beaded leathers

through the ages, children rooted in trees and fields

medicine men smoked in visions of waterfall suns

all of our days, deep this bloodline runs.


You come skipping off the curling waves

salty sea air swirling sand at my feet

in humming songs through shells and logs

restless wind, from where have you come,

and where shall you go?

All my days, soon blow away

only a restless wind

ever seeking

Wild iris

Iris, purple colored with yellow ruffle smiles

blooming wild at green forest pond

slender necked, stalks and leaves

sway of graceful woodland swans

When I go to the sea

When I go to the sea

I carry an empty vessel

gathering salty air to breathe inside

with grains of sand in my hands

some seaweed or shells,

you can never tell, driftwood

or broken bells

all the day, a sway and pull of tides

the breadth and depth of ocean

how the pounding waves carry

my empty vessel away


Wind shadows blow swift

cool smokey air lifts

clouds of dream, adrift

that come and go

Iridescent wings, sing

crows of summer

a murder in winter,

a frozen mirror,

melting in


Emerging greens, soiled leaves

grow skyward

to the sun

Blossomy buds have sprung

with fallen petals on the ground

fading into earth

changing forms

that can’t be


The way home

Orange, pink sunrise came over dawn’s moss green hill

soon a thousand birds all singing to the sun

orchid flower, soft butterfly touching down

paper petals white, float emerald lily pond

Quan Yin, in her stillness

looking on

To the earth and sky

we all belong

to water and fire

moon, stars, sun

with all elements

we are one

When we feel our

true connection to all

then we are finally home

The unraveling

Did you see

how the sky was always changing?

Did you feel life’s beauty, blissful innocence rearranging?

turning into days, days, days

void of blue, void of sun

how the rains swell the veins, in ways

one can no longer ignore

life blood barely breathing

a child screaming

to be heard

Do you feel how fear stole away

your purity of heart, your breath, your life,

your words?

With love, fearlessly reclaim

your truth, your voice, your heart

What is that? Who is that?

now is the unraveling

now is the untwisting

now is the time

Return to North Kohala

Is it tomorrow yet?

a day when I fly away

over a boundless sea of changing tide

beyond this twist of worried mind

beyond lost days of winter’s reign

Is it tomorrow yet?

a day when I go seeking my truth

connecting to the calling of my soul

awakened to find I am awash

in nature’s garden paradise

Lost and found upon the sand

knowing true paradise

is soulful, deep


On this mountain

On this mountain

comes alas, all the gush

and hurried buds of Spring

in bursts of pastel colors

petals drift and float serene

labyrinthine dawn’s waking river

Along this mountain wall

a million scented petals spiraling upward

escaping on the rising, warming thermals

entwined they fly fantastical with birds


desert flowers

abloom in red fire clouds

molten skies sweep over barren sands

shining suns of silver white bones

cacti glisten, soaked in afternoon storms

yesterday and tomorrow, hungry

where desert rabbits roam

and drown themselves drinking

bluest oceans

Little songs

In the gathering fields

wild grasses brush across

our warm brown skinned legs

stopping only for brightly colored flowers

indian paintbrush, red as blood

with yellow specks of sun

a summer meadow of swirling birds

speak in secret soulful words

pensive penetrating songs

circling round our heads, whistling

bird songs, that carry us home

Dream time

She left

memories of smiles and hearts tucked into a letter box

for you to open, days when you forget

who and what you truly are in this world

nights when dark starless skies

reign heavy upon you

She left

a message ” know you are never alone “

stars and beams of radiant light

will fill your head and heart

streaming soothing music of violins

someone singing songs of love

feels the same, in any foreign language

Is it you, deep in lucid lands?

you’ve lost your heart and cannot find

but for wandering fully awake

in realms of dream time


Magenta ruffle of petals

frilly fire of fragrance

deep dream of pink

wafting through my sleep

morning breeze of ocean

blooms awash in lilting

watercolor reds

Black lava road

Red fire

hissing down green mountain

a burning blackness

of lifeless trees

molten river bleeding

to the sea.

Black lava road, winding wild

an ashen path to the

cerulean sea.

Secret code of birds

Breathless sky

how silent clouds collide

leaving me to charcoal gray

teardrops will rain


Tomorrow how the Spring

sweetly sings of cloudless skies

blossoms will rain, fragrantly

the orange tree

and still

no matter the weather

gorgeous birds unwavering

will sing in secret codes

seemingly knowing

more than I


Plume, it is soft upon my lips

sometimes I am found

in newborn, downy feathered love

soft pillow of dreams

my soul sinks deep


One with trees

White snow of petals

heaven drifts silent through the garden

Spring maple, catkins green aglow

love potion of pollen snows

barefoot – grounded in softest newborn grass

Breathing in…..

to be one with earth and trees, planted, rooted deep

awakened from hollow sleep

hands pressing into the spirit of Spring

touching the sacred, unseen

funeral march

When you were a child, skies went on forever

golden light, your heart – of fiery field

with a toy gun to shoot the falling stars

from heaven

Once I saw a funeral march

walking slow as fog, gray sorrow made it’s way

with flowers, and faces cried like rain

and stayed with me, all the day

When I was a child, death was foreign

mysterious as plague and strange

on wintry wings it seemed to come

– never calling your name

In those days and dreams of ocean birds

with songs of love, you swam to the warming sun

Today outside your window

a tiny bird sings

to the solemn dawn

unaware that you have gone

just like all the golden flowers

of yesterday and tomorrow

The rift (10w)











The orchard

There was an orchard

lemon trees as far we could see

a memory of neroli flowered breeze

I was running in the scented rows of yellow

in a dream, you were always catching me

ever the days, when sunlight seemingly chased the moon away

there in a school, where we lingered in the sweetest lessons

of our lives and trees

Picking wildflowers in Hope

When I return to Hope

it will be the height of summer’s warm July

I’ll stroll the gravel road to take the cutoff path

gathering lupine wildflowers, breezy among the dewy grass

make my morning way along heaven’s labrynthine trail

with chirping cheery bird, sweet songs or distant calls of loon

where blue of sky is woven wild with magenta all abloom

and I will lose myself most complete

immersed in nature’s room

Garden in early Spring

Paper trees

winter still lingering

soon begins water ice trickling

big eyed, dogwood blossoms, rain

pink cherry flowers blooming mad

snow of paper petaled lawns

gardens whisper underground

in colored arrangements

awaiting dawn

Cape perpetua

I could write messages to the sky

climbing to the top of this summer mountain

digitalis pink, swirling sweet with bees

this place, tangled all in green

At the overlook, I am with trees

windward hanging on, dream

to fly away, a seabird ocean soaring

my mind of paper kite, adrift

through clouds of sky

Smell of moss and cedar

release of incense

in the warming sun

footsteps, fragrance

soaking deep


This must be Eden’s

color of azure water

glinting flecks of sun

transforming turquoise blue

that my reflections go

diving in

Breadth of love


the door

of your heart


soon will come

leaving sorrow

far and gone

from this


Lilting, lull

of ocean’s

gentle waves

seashells play

songs of love





the rise

and fall

of love’s


Winter reflection

Snow is falling

lightest snowflakes float

across fields deep


densely slow

my feet

Night is glowing

snowy owl flies

from sight

lost in moon clouds

fading light

Stars are humming

in fields of velvet


the earth

the universe

the breath and pulse

of life

Wild sea

Your hair,

of smoke, it floats

curls adrift, waves

of wild sea, upon your head

I gazed long into the storm

before my hands ever

learned to swim

When I drive the old road

sometimes perfect suns

stream through my dusty windows

memories of you, in sepia colors undone

the breadth of days long gone

all of this

each time I go

driving by

Until the Spring



a garden

losing ground

cold and deep

my feet in

buried snow

sometimes pale ghosts

of winter whisper

in the footprints

that I follow

long, until the


This temple

Sword ferns warming

some unfurling toward the sun

deeper green the moss grows softly underfoot

forest fog the breadth of morning breathing

grey, pale lichen clinging

a snow melt creek splashes running

clouds break away to light the day

the shine of mossy flowers sunning

this church it has no walls

no doors to lock nor ticking clocks to read

only of the sacred does this wooded temple sing

and I so humbled bow beneath

resplendent evergreens

These sheltered words

If these words be thy home

salvation for my soul to dwell in

let them be of love

no beginning

no end

tarnished notes

better to go barefoot, on glass

running to catch trains,

going anywhere

one way

to find you are real

blood stained tracks

to make you feel

go far from loveless rooms

where monsters stir

under bitter yellow moons

leave behind hollow tarnished flutes

playing cruel notes

of a blinded, deafening past

play loud

a new song

blissful notes ever



Today only clouds

white, blue, grey

always they hover

mingle in tallest trees

too far my eyes

to see

winter sky

pale light

soft, silent


passing by


I think


dream of you

how you speak

to me

never knowing

my name

Shells and waves

Who can think straight

spinning in seas of shells and waves?

Tireless tides play a game, of dragging in and out

marooning or tossing one about.

Many sailing ships adrift, you’ll see passing by,

or weathered wooden boats, some row and row,

to the edge of earth, foggy

never dreaming they

can fly.

Sepal and Petaled

long silky filament

curved, reaching for stars

peduncle, sepal and petaled

ovule, jewel – seeds of renewal

encased in velvety red

pollen explosion, pistol potion

anther tipped stamen bled

evening stars now far-off shine

bees drowsily dream

in wax house, honeycombed hives


She was speaking

butterflies floated from her lips

fragile wings

caressed your mind

together, entwined

you flew

fragrant petals were her pillow a scented garden filled your room

you were dreaming,

roses soft, laid

upon your bed

a morning of golden sun

compassion, salvation of sacred dawn

they were barren

void of masks

becoming utterly


rainforest in spring

forest path of light

visions in gradient greens

incense of wooded rain

puddling streams

splash awakened in

bliss of dream

faerie orchids

rest upon mossery

scented rain

sprinkles on

hues of


Path (10w)

a path

invitation, hesitation

elation, compassion

a truth

intuition led

Ojo caliente

Red table mesas

Whitest clouds dot to dot sky

Healing waters run

Of you

Of you,

I speak of

softest petals, always kissing

flowers, full bloom

wet drops, your reddened lips

pour darkest cherry wine

all the day, watercoloring

my skies

Meadows green

Ever twisty they climbed – the vines

the tree was speaking low, so slow – the breathing

roots were diving deep, so deep the breath, the depth of grieving

concentric soul, go within to flow, letting go, it’s time the past was leaving

born a child, wild as smiles, dance in meadows green

with joy your heart is weaving

and when the night starless looms, you’ll bloom

your heart, open as a flower

Lost in green

When I was a child

making my way, always to a forest

obsessed by green, or light

shining through greens

that is how I lost my mind

never even knowing it, or why?

No explanation needed

for a child, crazy

deep in bliss.

Like some birds

When white wings, feathery scatter

silent as snowflakes gather

resting on rooftops,

in death, does a soul linger,

does it fly in the vastness

of forever?

Like some birds in clouds

we’ve never seen, though

felt in rain, or wilds.

Swift a rush that chills

and floods the heart unknown,

a gift of truth reveals

that which eyes cannot look upon,

and only hearts

can feel.

with the recent passing of my Father, it’s good to know his presence is felt, at times in unexplainable ways, but also he has appeared in my dreams 3 or 4 times since he passed, with two of the dreams being deeply spiritual and profound to me.

India spice (10w)

Ceylon cinnamon tea,

cardamon, ginger

from painted cups,

drank she

In other countries

Somewhere in a dream

in other countries, never mapped, a man was speaking

though I did not understand, there was never any plan

and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.

With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus

There in the forest, a silent steeple stood standing on it’s own

now a wild bird’s home, wrapped in thorny vines

a crown that stained, red berries bled upon my hands.

Mary was there too, she was looking through

a broken window pane, whispering my name

and too, the forest sang, bathing me in love

and with the birds I flew, silently into

a deeper dream, until I woke at dawn

to fragrant flowers on the lawn

remembering such heaven.

If love be a fire – unfolding

Of Spring I dream…

cool moss alive in verdant green

with cherry flowers – petals fall like snow

our footsteps pressing in

dissolve cold snowy lands

in the heart of sun

love, born of fire


How long the night?

When evening’s

long shadows come shooting

swift as arrows piercing stars, darkening this world

leaving gold amber hills in underworlds, far until tomorrow.

How can we know the difference, but for light of day

and if the sun does not come, how long would

such a strange night be?


Mourning – you flew over indigo waters,


Stealthy stalker you walked the shallows

billing silvery minnows

On rust red stilts, you’re built

to move in watery fields

Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms

rippled, your swaying seaweed room

Silent hunter,

feathery plumed

Haiku for two

She loved the pale moon

he traveled beneath night’s sky

woven by starlight

Fool Moon 2

She loved the moon

long awaited ripeness full

Stood gazing

out the window

Then came a fool

to close the shades

his senses dull

blinded dark

her world

Endless as stars

Your eyes of clear water oceans, endless as stars

and seas I’ve crossed – a perfect tide gathered me whole

healing waters washed our days, birds of fluted music played

Breathing in

the rhythm of wind

we float, suspended as the stars

surrendering to the hypnotic glow of moon

We who lay

our troubled hours

soft on maiden ferns

never a lesson, but

for love’s sake

shall we ever need

to learn

early morning snowflakes

Buoyant snowflakes sideways crashed

dripping down grey window glass,

stinging winds blew harsh – the lash

of winter.

High in pines, do they shiver,

nesting birds deeply hidden?


do they warmly slumber,

with downy feathers, nestled under,

night’s darkest cold, before

the light of dawn?

Yesterday’s child

There were birds, and yesterday’s flowers,

the children laughing, never noticed fall retreating

or when winter began, forest faeries sprinkled snowflakes,

sparkling to cover the land, with magic until the Spring again,

when all their days were deep in lilies, silken petals

held dear in tiny hands, and very soon

Summer berries, reddest cherries

were laden sweetly, solely

just for them.

Winter shades

Lily white the mountains disappearing into sky,

silence of snow, growing ever deep the day and fades away,

I cannot tell where cloud meets dell, on such a winter’s eve.

Night will glow in moon tones, cold the foggy grey,

stars will shine for another, some other world away.

Dark and light, void of color, a palette

in winter shades.

Unknown poet

It was as if they wrote only to set us free,

never thinking twice about the landing or flight,

plowing dirt fields, with scores of prose, in sorrow and delight.

In a room of sun, where seasons come

with snow and rain, and none will ever be the same,

long after the reading, and none will ever know the poet’s name

or why the words have opened wide

their buried hearts

to grieving.

Today – goodbye forever

Today – it came suddenly, like rain it came in sheets, stormy without warning

it left nothing to repair, no way to undo the longing, swift we fell, fumbling

as you flew far, forever and gone

with no one to find you

again at your home

Somehow I felt you smiling or knew you’d be laughing,

dancing in daisies, barefoot and singing Sinatra

on the other side, sweetly

by now

I lost my Father today, this just popped into my head. I hope to write something more poignant and meaningful about this loss in the coming days. A very sad day indeed my friends,


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